


The Boss's Daughter

by PotionMastersBitch



Category: NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:38:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionMastersBitch/pseuds/PotionMastersBitch
Summary: Although Jethro had reluctantly come to the understanding that his only child had once harbored an enormous crush on his SFA, he had been all but certain such a fixation had faded away over the years. What's more, even if it hadn't, he had always been certain such an affection was one-sided at best - and, as such, in no real danger of causing any work-related of familial issues.That is, of course, until Kelly returns from Paris after more than a year away...and with all the same stubbornness and affections as before.





	The Boss's Daughter

            Although Kelly had specifically requested that he do _no such thing_ , in a very uncharacteristically firm manner, Tony had found that in his great excitement to see his best friend again that the purchasing of an obscenely large bouquet of flowers had been an almost inevitable act for him on his way to the airport. Because the staunch modesty of his closest friend besides, the triumphant return of a newly renown opera singer to the origins of her birth was indeed an event worth celebrating – even _if_ said stubborn Coloratura refused to see it as such.        

            And, so it was, that Anthony DiNozzo found himself in one of D. C’s busiest airports at the ungodly hour of four in the morning, equipped with nothing more than his trademark charm and obnoxious bouquet as he eagerly, and impatiently, awaited the arrival of an indecently late flight from Paris. A feat much easier said than done for one so impatient as himself, for it seemed as if every few moments a young woman would pass him by bearing an almost absurdly remarkable resemblance to his boss’s daughter. For even _if_ one of those beautiful women did not have the prerequisite cornflower-colored eyes, a feature aggravatingly difficult to determine with just a cursory glance, they almost always had a frustrating propensity towards possessing the same mink-colored hair Kelly had possessed since birth.

            _“Blue.”_ Tony reminded himself, after yet another passing woman disappointed him by not being Kelly. _“She promised to wear that blue sweater you bought her for her birthday…the one that makes her eyes pop.”_

            Because as much as Kelly might protest that she didn’t like her birthday being commemorated in such a traditional fashion, on account of such an event being directly aligned with the car-crash that had stolen her mother’s life, Tony had found that he could not help but purchase the Armani garment for once he had reflected upon just how brilliantly it would cause her eyes to shine.

            _“Her eyes have always been her best feature.”_ Tony mused, reluctantly sinking unto an empty bench once his feet got tired from all his restless pacing. _“I don’t know why anyone thinks green is so special_.”

            For while such a feature was admittedly rare in nature, the green of his eyes was nothing at all compared to the penetrating richness of Kelly’s far more beautiful pair. Because as much as she would protest that there was absolutely nothing at all astonishing about a feature thirteen million other people in the world possessed, Tony could not help but argue against such ridiculousness on the grounds that he had spent several hours over the course of their friendship discovering and classifying all the different shades of blue her eyes could appear to be in different lighting.

            _“Good Lord.”_ Tony grimaced, for the fifth time catching his mind wandering away from himself. _“If she doesn’t get here soon, I’m going to start naming off random shades of blue.”_

            In fact, it was not long at all before Tony began to do just that, indulgently allowing his mind to flood with all the various shades he could think of while woman after woman after woman passed him by without having the decency to be his much-desired friend. It was only when a rather rotund woman passed him by, having the nerve to wear the exact same sweater he had bought Kelly, that Tony stopped his listing at cerulean and finally gave into his restlessness and allowed such feelings to prompt him unto his feet and direct him toward a nearby café that smelled as if it had some of the best cappuccinos on earth.

But, before he could so much as take more than a few steps away from the bench he had earlier sat himself upon, he was effectively stopped in his tracks by a very familiar voice squealing out his name across the crowded room.

            “Tony-Pie!”

            “Kelly-Cakes!”

Immediately spinning around on his heels to catch a glimpse of his best friend’s face, a remarkable visage he had not seen for the longest of times, Tony grinned wide enough to resemble a fool as he threw open his free arm in a silent invitation for a one-armed bearhug. But, entirely unbeknownst to him, it seemed Kelly apparently had a far more destructive greeting in mind. For, rather than acquiesce to his simpler act of affection, the bubbly young woman kept up an impressive speed and all but launched herself in his direction without any warning – neccessating Tony’s immediate dropping of the expensive vase of flowers in favor of not allowing his friend to drop to the hard floor.

“Kelly,” Tony grinned, effortlessly holding up her slight frame even as she wriggled and wrapped her legs around his waist, “How was your trip?”

Clearly just as overwhelmed with emotion as was he, Kelly beamed brightly into his face before moving to press her forehead against his own in a gesture of unaffected exuberance.

“Long.” She grimaced, the happy twinkle in her eyes never faltering. “You weren’t waiting very long, were you?”

Despite having been at the overcrowded airport for several hours before Kelly had finally arrived, during which time he had nearly lost his mind due to sheer boredom, Tony chivalrously shook his head in the negative in order to spare his dearest friend any unnecessary guilt.

“Just an hour or so.” Tony fibbed, reluctantly settling Kelly back upon the floor the very moment she squirmed to be let down.

“Oh, good.” Kelly sighed in relief. “I was worried you’d be here for – Oh! The flowers!”

            Cutting short her little diatribe just as soon as she caught sight of the fragrant blooms lying in a pile of glass shards, Kelly frowned deeply and looked fully prepared to apologize before Tony preemptively stopped her by speaking before she could.

            “You _did_ tell me not to buy anything.” Tony immediately excused, only to be instantly made suspicious by the small smirk on his friend’s face.

            Because as much as Gibbs liked to grouse that he was a shameless and mischievous trouble-maker, said man’s daughter was inarguable ten times worse when it came to playing around with people for her own (harmless) amusement.

            “Kelly Anne.” Tony mockingly scolded. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

            “I _did_ tell you not to get me any flowers.” Kelly gently reminded, more smug than repentant.

            Not at all one to be so easily outdone in a battle of wills, not even by a Gibbs, Tony promptly returned tit for tat with all the ease and lack of guilt the strength and length of their friendship both provided and allowed for.

             “Someone is going to have to clean all that up, you know.” Tony mildly antagonized, gesturing at the decimated vase and flowers.

            Thoroughly unable to accept the fact that somebody might have to clean up a mess she, herself, had been the orchestrator of, Kelly’s full cheeks flushed a very vibrant fuchsia even as she restlessly kneeled and began to go about plucking up the large shards of milk-glass now strewn across the flooded linoleum.

            “Oh!” Kelly squeaked, her good-nature almost immediately overpowering any sense of smugness she might have still had. “I didn’t think of that! We’ll have to find a mop and a – “

            Already thoroughly exhausted from the criminal lack of sleep the events of that entire week had precipitated, as well as completely starved, Tony shook his head in a silent condemnation of his friend’s desire to mop up the mess themselves and firmly, yet gently, pulled her back unto her feet before she could prick herself on any of the glass.

            “Kelly, I love you, I do, but it’s _late_.” Tony gently reminded the perpetually-energized woman. “And I’m not staying in this hellhole any longer so that you can clean up a mess _you_ made.”

            “But – “

            Thinking it prudent to stop a squabble before it could solidify into something more, especially seeing that his would-be-proponent was a _Gibbs_ , Tony put on his most disarming and playful of smiles and all but pulled the stubborn woman away from the scene of the crime.

            “Let that serve as a reminder for you to behave, young lady.”

              Giving him a notable and very familiar side-eye at the reference to her youth, as really she was only exactly six months younger than himself, Kelly pouted theatrically and huffed aloud one last time before reluctantly allowing herself to be steered further away from the carnage she had created.

            “You’re a cruel man.” Kelly chastised, without any sincerity.

            “Would a cruel man help you surprise your father?” Tony calmly rebuttled, wordlessly removing the overpacked carryon from her shoulder and taking the burden upon himself. “ _Or_ offer to carry the rest of your bags for you?”

            Never one to allow a very clear challenge to go unanswered, a trait she had very clearly inherited from her father, Kelly simply smiled sanguinely and shrugged a slender shoulder.

            “Calm down, DiNozzo.” The impish girl heatlessly chided. “Carrying one bag hardly makes you a Sisyphus.”

            “Are you honestly trying to tell me you only packed _one_ bag?” Tony challenged, still steering the both of them towards baggage-claim despite her protests.

            Because as sexist as such a doubt might sound to anyone who happened to overhear their conversation, either by accident or purposeful designs, it stood to reason that his disbelief was not at all unreasonable based on his knowledge of the fact that Kelly was the only other person he knew, besides himself, to have need of a full two closets for all her name brand clothing. Which, while a feat in and of itself, was made all the more incredulous by her unflinching devotion to own every handbag or purse Michael Kors happened to put out in her lifetime.

            “Oh, ye of little faith.” Kelly sighed dramatically, taking it upon herself to forcefully steer them away from the direction of the baggage-claims. “I had everything else shipped to Daddy’s house.”

            Having periodically taken to sending Kelly goods from America whilst she was on tour in Paris, and feeling keenly the dent such acts put into his wallet, Tony could not help but outwardly cringe at the idea that his perpetually-responsible friend would have been reckless enough to ship over to America what was surely pounds upon pounds of clothing.

            “Kelly, that must have cost a _fortune_!” Tony exclaimed, perfectly aghast.

            “Well, last time the baggage handlers cracked my violin!” Kelly defended, still heated at such a remembrance several months later. “Lucky for them it wasn’t the one my grandmother gave me.”

              Thinking that such a lucky happenstance was, indeed, very lucky for said reckless employees, as no doubt all three surviving Gibbs would have lynched them had such an important family heirloom come to harm, Tony nodded in sage agreement and not so subtly covered his mouth with the collar of his jacket as a rather rotund man passed them by hacking and wheezing without any sense of abandon.

            “You did get your flu shot, yes?” Kelly pressed, grimacing as a few droplets of spittle fell unto her boots.

            Helplessly scowling out into the woman as the very recent memory of Gibbs holding him down unto an autopsy table flickered through his mind without permission, as well as shuddering violently as he recalled the way in which Ducky had been forced to prick him without warning, Tony all but grumbled out his answer in response to the distasteful way those recollections left a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.

            “We both know your dad makes me get one every year.” Tony groused, subconsciously rubbing away at the portion of arm he had been so callously pricked in. “And if you don’t believe either one of us, Ducky’s bruised chin can prove it to you.”

            Because as often as Tony avowed to take his shots like the grown ass man he was, which was every single time the dreaded flu-season rolled around, his resolve inevitably wore out just as soon as the sounds of a hypodermic being opened reached his ears.

            “You’re such a baby when it comes to needles.” Kelly teased, playful rather than mocking.

            Although it _did_ admittedly embarrass him to have such a cliché phobia, as not even getting shot could so easily aggravate him into an anxiety-attack, Tony _was_ able to take certain comfort in the fact that fifty-million other Americans also suffered from such an affliction. Something Kelly, herself, could not say about her own phobia.

            “You’re afraid of _fish_.” Tony rebuttled, smirking at the very absurdity.

            “Some of them have stingers, Anthony!” Kelly defended, a faint flush on her cheeks.

            “And how is wanting to avoid a prick any different than wanting to avoid a stinger?” Tony volleyed, thoroughly enjoying a good verbal spar.

            Without missing so much as a beat, or a step in her confident stride, Kelly grinned mischievously and answered almost immediately.

            “One doesn’t try and ask you out on a date.”  

            Promptly dissolving into a fit of giggles alongside his best friend at such a clever quip, as he really had not been expecting such an answer at all, Tony and Kelly _both_ drew the bemused gazes of several spectators as said individuals no doubt tried, and failed, to divulge the reasoning behind their sudden mirth in a place so dismal and lifeless as an airport.

            “But you _did_ get your flu-shot, yes?” Kelly nagged, once her uproarious giggles had finally subsided.

            Theatrically rolling his eyes in response to the well-intended question, as it was the selfsame one both Abby and Kate had been bugging him with all winter, Tony huffed loudly and inwardly bemoaned the fact that he had ever been afflicted with the plague. Because not only did he now have to deal with sudden and very uncomfortable phenomenon of being dangerously immuno-compromised, a state of being which encompassed an unconscionable amount of needles being brought into contact with his person, so too did he now have to contend with a veritable endless supply of people barraging him with endless questions about his vaccination schedules.

            “You sound _so_ much like your dad right now.” Tony complained, only marginally annoyed.

            Despite the levity of both his tone and words, Kelly unexpectedly chose to take the rebuke far more seriously then intended.

            “We worry about you, Tony, that’s all.” The young woman needlessly defended, the slender fingers embracing his arm protectively tightening. “You’re practically family.”  

            Feeling slightly guilty in response to the way he had caused his best friend to needlessly defend her familial affection toward him, as that had not been his intention at all, Tony frowned slightly before gently trying to inject a bit good-humor into the situation.

            “Believe me,” Tony insisted, “I _know_. You and your father are _beasts_ when it comes to my health.”

            Because even _if_ he were not forced to contend with an endless barrage of texts and calls from Kelly whenever a particularly nasty strain flu made its way into the international news, which seemed to a more frequently occurring phenomenon nowadays, he would still be forced to deal with all the endless absurdities of her overprotective father – said Marine’s insistence upon him wearing both hat _and_ gloves in forty degree weather only the most negligible example of such.  

            “Just be glad you only have to deal with overprotectiveness _now_.” Kelly lectured, a small smile returning to her face. “Because Daddy once broke some kid’s skateboard over his knees for whistling at me.”

            “I honestly can’t say I blame him.” Tony loyally defended. “A teenager shouldn’t be whistling at a fourth-grader.”

            Looking as if she had heard that very same defense from her father all those years ago, Kelly rolled her pretty eyes up to the ceiling and shook her head.

            “Maybe so.” She allowed, rather reluctantly. “But just keep in mind that nobody would ask me to the fifth-grade formal after that.”

             Despite Kelly’s unbesmirchable reputation of being a strict adherent to the truth at all times, Tony still found such an absurd claim hard to believe. Because as terrified as any young boy would be to ask out a girl whose father had just threatened to rip the limbs off one of their classmate’s older brother, the general recklessness of puberty when confronted with beauty would surely have been enough to take care of such a problem.

            “It’s still better than that time he kicked a dent in your prom dates car for making you cry.”

              “Yet no less embarrassing.” Kelly rebuttled, a fond nostalgia taking over her features. “I almost didn’t kick his ass the next day because I felt so bad for him.”        

            Despite sorely wishing that the both of them hadn’t grown up in a time without cellphones, as he would have so greatly loved to see a recording of such a Stillwater renown ass-kicking, Tony grinned openly alongside his best friend and shook his head in utter bemusement.

            “You _are_ your father’s child, aren’t you?” He asked.

            “That I am.” Kelly agreed. “That I am.”

             

              

             


End file.
